


maybe, baby, the gypsy lied

by TheRurrJurr



Series: one step up and two steps back [2]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Tough Love, but also brotherly yelling, wyd scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 18:59:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16838500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRurrJurr/pseuds/TheRurrJurr
Summary: "So when you look at me, you better look hard and look twice."He both wants to murder him and hug him. Right now the "murder him" side is winning.





	maybe, baby, the gypsy lied

**December 8, 2018  
London, Ontario**

There have been several times that Charlie Moir legitimately wanted to kill his brother.

Once when he was seven and Scott was four and Scott let his pet lizard out into the February snow, where it certainly froze to death immediately and wasn’t seen again until the April thaw. Once when he was eleven and Scott was eight and Scott hid his lucky hockey puck so that Ashley Milton wouldn’t say yes when he finally asked her to the dance (she said no). Once when he was sixteen and Scott was thirteen and had decided he was mature enough to drive his new truck down Ilderton’s main drag and promptly crashed it into a light pole, smashing the fender and ruining the front wheels.

There were a few other times too. Once when he was twelve and Scott was nine and Scott gave into peer pressure and called up Tessa, quickly and loudly insisting he didn’t want to go out with her anymore and slammed the receiver down, not waiting to hear her response. Once when he was 24 and Scott was 21 and refusing to call her after her surgery and parading around with Jessica instead, slowly breaking his partner’s heart. Once when he was 30 and Scott was 27 and pissing away his nights at every bar in London and Winnipeg, terrifying their family and rushing headfirst into yet another doomed long-distance relationship.

Now, he is 34 and Scott is 31 and repeating the mistakes Charlie was sure he had stopped making when he and Tessa had decided to come back, had seemed more settled with each other, and his brother had looked the happiest he had ever seen him.

Sometime in the last few weeks things have gone belly-up and he wants to kill his brother again, and he may actually do it for real this time. Scott started showing up with one of Charlie’s old friends from high school (who skated with Scott for four months in elementary school, and if that isn’t the irony to end all ironies he’s not sure what is), Tessa mostly avoided Charlie and the rest of the family at the Walk of Fame ceremony a week ago, and he’s not sure how in the hell all of this has happened.

What he does know is that he’s pulling into Tessa’s driveway on a freezing cold Saturday morning to grab a box of his brother’s things (which he certainly wasn’t going to make her drive over to his parents’ place), it’s starting to snow and trying to figure out all of this is giving him a massive headache.

“Hey.” Tessa greets him with a hug once he steps into her foyer.

“Hey, Big Hands.” He eagerly returns the hug, squeezing her a little tighter. “I can still call you that, right?”

Tessa pulls away with a quick smile. “Yeah, of course.” She looks great, if not a little worn out, and he’s sure she’d rather not see him right now. She gestures to a plastic bin at the foot of the stairs. “I think — I think that’s it. The hockey gear or whatever has been gone for a while.”

Charlie nods. “Okay.” There’s a pause. “How are you — ”

She shrugs. “I’m…whatever.”

He sighs. “I wish I knew what to tell you right now.”

Tessa shakes her head. “I’m really sick of people telling me how I should feel, so I’d rather you not.”

“Fair.” He chuckles. “You know we’re getting you in this, right? Danny and I decided that the other night.”

Tessa genuinely laughs. “Might make Christmas awkward.”

“I think we invited ourselves over here for that and I’m just telling you now,” he replies. “But seriously, my door is open and my phone is on if you ever need anything.”

Tessa smiles. “I do appreciate that.”

Charlie grabs the box and lifts it over the threshold. Tessa’s blinking back what Charlie thinks are tears and he wraps an arm around her. “It ain’t over ’til it’s over,” he reminds her and pulls her in for a hug. “I’ll see you around, Big Hands.”

Tessa sniffles and nods. “Yeah.” He grabs the box and walks off her porch. After loading it in the car, he turns around and gives her a smile and a wave. She returns it as he backs out of the driveway. At the first red light between her house and Ilderton, he hits the breaks and drops his head against the steering wheel.

How in the hell his brother ended up choosing a married woman he hadn’t really spoken to in years over his partner (and one day Jackie will figure out that Tessa really is his life partner, they all do eventually) is completely beyond him. A lot of theories and ideas are floating around his head, and given that Scott was tight-lipped about this whole situation to his own family, Charlie doubts he’s ever going to get answers.

The light turns greet and he continues on his way. It’s not that Charlie isn’t happy for him if Scott is happy. He’s fine with it. He, like everyone else around them observing it, is just very confused.

Twenty minutes later he’s pulling into his parents’ driveway and Alma opens the door with a sad smile. He gets out of the car, reaching around for the box in the trunk. “Hi,” she greets him.

"Hey, Ma." He drops it on the porch and walks over for a hug. "Is my brother here?" Charlie asks.

Alma nods and ushers him inside. “Upstairs.” She closes the door behind them as Joe comes into the foyer.

“Please be gentle with him,” Joe asks.

Charlie rolls his eyes and turns to face the stairs. “Yo, asshole, I have your shit," Charlie shouts in the direction of Scott’s room and throws the bin on the foyer floor. It hits the floor with a loud smack, rattling the tchotchkes scattered around on the table just to the left of the door, and Joe gives him a warning look.

Scott emerges at the top of the stairs. He looks exhausted, like he hasn't slept in weeks — because he probably hasn't — and not like someone who should be excited about his new, supposedly wonderful relationship. "I don't have anywhere to put it," he mutters.

"That's not my fucking problem," Charlie points out. "Put it in the garage or something." He both wants to murder him and try to be sympathetic to him, but the murder side is winning. Joe takes Alma's elbow and leads her out of the foyer as Scott makes his way down the stairs. "Where's Jackie?"

"Back to Florida," Scott answers.

“No gala events this week?”

Scott glares at him. “Don’t start that shit.”

Charlie flips his car keys around his right pointer finger. “Why do you think I hauled myself out here, other than dropping off everything from your old life? Get dressed and let’s go for a drink.”

He drives them down the street to the King Edward and they grab two stools at the end of the bar. It's the middle of the day, and even on a weekend no one's here yet, meaning they have the room to themselves other than the bartender, some old guy in a corner booth already slumped over his drink and the bar’s Spotify playlist, which is mostly a bizarre mix of old-school country, 80s rock and 90s dance. It’s a good place to chat and Charlie just hopes no crazy fans come in and get wind of the conversation.

He dives right in after their drinks come. ”Did you know she wasn't divorced yet?”

Scott, elbows on the bar and head in his hands, rolls his eyes. “What a fucking intro.”

“Serious question.”

Scott shakes his head. "She said she was. Honestly, until it hit the Internet, I had no idea.”

“Are you okay with that?”

He shrugs. “It’s just kind of the reality of the situation, I guess.”

Charlie slowly regards him, pauses and considers what to say next as Scott brings his glass up to take a sip. "T looked like a fucking vision on that red carpet last week, eh?"

Scott pauses right before the drink hits his lips. “She looked great, yeah.”

Charlie chuckles and rubs his forehead with his right hand. “Come on, man. What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? Fooling around with a married woman? Hurting Tessa, yet again, but even worse this time?” Charlie sips his drink. “Is something going on that you’re not telling anyone about?”

Scott shrugs. “No. Tess and I talked and decided that now was not the right time, so when Jackie and I started talking again we decided to give it a shot instead. It’s really not that complicated.”

Charlie shakes his head. “That’s not what I heard.”

“Then what did you hear?” Scott snaps.

Charlie holds up his hand as he takes another sip, then swallows before he continues. “That she asked that you guys hold off on any big decisions until after the tour, and you supposedly agreed, and then started sneaking around with Jackie anyway while still mostly with Tess, then brought Jackie to Nashville, then told Tess she was there as Cara’s old friend who was finally in the same country as her, then hung out with Tess for two days in Nashville, and at the end of the tour you were acting like everything was normal, then informed her once you got home that you wanted to make things official with Jackie and hey Tess, it’s always gonna be great skating with you, but that whole thing about waiting until the end of the tour to decide about us and all that jazz we figured we were going to do? Yeah, I did, except I didn’t decide with you, I’m gonna go ahead and make this random girl in fucking Florida my sidepiece, oh and by the way that’s gonna fuck up our TV broadcast where we talk about ourselves, so might wanna cancel that, and that magazine shoot you did for a bachelorette party, that’s done too, but see you at the Walk of Fame, it’s been fun.” Charlie faces Scott. “Did I miss anything?”

Scott stares straight ahead and sighs, not answering. “I’m serious, man. Is everything okay?” He doesn’t respond. “Fuck’s sake, Scott, she asked you to not pressure her, she didn’t ask you to cut your dick off,” Charlie scoffs. “After this year? It’s really not that much to ask.”

“Twenty-one years,” Scott counters. “How could she not know after 21 years?”

“Because you were an asshole for a good chunk of those 21 years, and when you finally decided not to be an asshole you guys threw yourselves into competition or the bubble or whatever, and your life has been batshit crazy since then and it’s not the biggest thing to maybe see how you function in the real world for a few months before making any big decisions.” Charlie rests his elbows on the bar. “And now you’re back to being an asshole.”

“Do you fucking know what it's like?” Scott slams his glass on the bar and beer foam sloshes over the rim. “To have every fucking reporter in the country breathing down your neck about it? To have the entire Internet writing out theories and ideas and Tweeting at you about it? And then to have to act like nothing's happening when of course it is? Christ, if she had just said "fine, let's tell people," none of this would have happened.”

“Don't you dare blame her,” Charlie warns him. “Don't you fucking dare. This whole fuck-up is entirely on you.”

Scott stares into his glass, fuming as he continues. “I went to her photo shoot when I don't give a shit about fashion. I stopped hanging out in bars even though I could finally go out and not get recognized. We were together all the time in Europe. I did everything right. It's been 21 years, how much longer was I supposed to wait for her to be “sure"?"

"You just came off the craziest year of your lives," Charlie counters. "You haven't even announced your retirement yet and you expect her to run off and marry you right now? I really don't think she asked for too much." He pauses and sips his beer as the song on playlist changes over. "And you do know this isn't the way to prove to Tess that you're ready, right?"

Scott crosses his arms over his chest and rolls his eyes. "Can we not turn this into a fucking lecture series."

"Look, I'm just trying to get this straight in my head. Instead of waiting and not talking to the public about your relationship with Tess, which you told me you both agreed was a good idea because of...everything connected to it, and her just asking you to hang on for a few more weeks while she sorts stuff out, you instead actively hide a relationship and sneak around with a married woman you briefly reconnected with, who lives in the States, and you go from 0 to 60 in one second on it, because that makes far more sense." He snickers. "Kind of ironic, actually. Tess just wanted you to wait, and now you're freaked out by something moving too fast. Karma is a petty, petty bitch."

"Whatever," Scott mumbles.

"No, no, I'm actually curious about your thought process here," Charlie persists. "How does this work? Or does it? Because we've all seen this episode of your show before and I hate reruns, only this time we've added in the twist of fucking up the one good thing you actually did have going in your life."

Scott is silent, avoiding eye contact, and so Charlie decides to change gears. "When was the last time you went to therapy?"

"Does it matter? You're just going to say it doesn't work," Scott retorts.

"I thought it did," Charlie argues. "I don't know why you didn't work harder at it. Or actually put it to use. Because clearly, you didn't."

Scott clenches his jaw, shifting his eyes as Charlie continues. "Honestly, you started going, what, three years ago? And after that you were hanging out with Tess again and you and Kaitlyn broke up, and it was like I had my little brother back after all that shit that went down after Sochi. I wasn't worried anymore about getting a call from this place or Molly Bloom’s about how they had taken your car keys away, or a text from Cara about how you had showed up on hers and Andy's doorstep again because you couldn't figure out Uber on your phone, or another call from you because you were on Tess's front porch and she wasn't home and the door was locked and you just wanted to talk to her." Scott exhales as Charlie sits back, wondering where to go with this.

"I know you know how shitty that time period was for everyone. You scared the hell out of us. I really do think you know that," Charlie says. "Why are you reverting to that? What’s this end game? Did you learn anything? Either those B2 people are hacks or you're really, really good at faking it."

Scott thumbs the corner of his drink coaster and doesn't answer. “Look. I obviously don't know the whole thing. But from what I do know, Tess didn't ask you to move mountains. She didn't ask for water into wine. She asked for a little thought on your end, and after 21 years of her putting up with your endless parade of bullshit, you couldn't." Charlie shakes his head and leans forward. "You owed her at least some time. You owe her that at the VERY least. You'd be a fucking barback working in here if it wasn't for her.”

"You think I don't know that?" Scott bursts out, turning to look at him with fire in his eyes and Charlie pulls back. "I know everyone thinks I lived in one endless blackout after Sochi and right now everyone thinks I'm a dick and don't appreciate her but I do. I fucking do. And sometimes I look at her and wonder what the hell happened because I sure as hell don't deserve her."

"Damn right you don't," Charlie agrees.

"Fuck off." Scott finishes his drink and pushes his glass away. “You’re not in the middle of this. I’m tired of everyone telling me what we did right or wrong. It’s a lot. It's always been a lot for us to deal with. This shit doesn’t help.”

“You’re right, it’s a lot. You’re absolutely right,” Charlie allows. “So instead of rising to the occasion, you take this thing that’s supposedly so special to you, throw it in a pit and light it on fire." Charlie shakes his head. "One day, she won't be around to fix your mess. I certainly hope you figure this shit out before then." He signals to the bartender for his tab while Scott reaches for his wallet. "On me. Need a lift back to Mom and Dad's?"

Scott silently shakes his head, putting his wallet away. "I'll walk."

Charlie settles up and they head out of the bar. Outside, he puts his hands onto Scott's shoulders, facing him.

"I am hard on you about this because you two are miserable without each other and therefore everyone else is miserable," he insists, “and like I said, we've seen this episode before, and I fucking hate reruns." Scott looks down and rubs his hand over his face. "Whatever's going on, this thing with Tess and this thing with Jackie...I'm pissed as hell at you, but I'm your brother. If you want to talk for real, and then do something about it, I'm here. But I'm not here for you to be blowing hot air and then doing the same shit again."

Scott nods, bringing his hand up to his neck and staring at the ground. "I just...I don't know when the hell this all got so out of control," he says quietly and plays with a loose rock with his shoe. "I wouldn't even know what to say if I talked to her."

Charlie sighs. "This is going to be fine if you work for it to be fine. But don't you dare hurt her again."

Scott squeezes his eyes shut and nods. "I kind of hate myself for it right now."

Charlie groans and drops his hands from Scott's shoulders. "Don't you dare make me feel bad for you." Scott manages to half-smile at that. "Sure you don't need a ride?"

He shakes his head. "I need the fresh air."

"Alright. Don't get hypothermia and freeze to death." He pulls Scott in for a quick hug. "I mean it. You're capable of working this shit out if you want.”

Scott pulls out of the hug, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah. Maybe.”

“You are,” he assures him. “I don’t want to give you this speech again in another four years. We’re going to be too old for it.” Charlie walks to his car, leaving his brother standing on the curb, and turns the engine over.

As he pulls away back towards home in London, he checks his rearview mirror. Scott’s leaning against a light pole, hunched over, his forehead in his left hand. In all honesty, on some level, Charlie does feel bad for him. It’s not the way he pictured this year ending for any of them.

He only hopes his brother can pull himself out of his own mess before dragging Tessa back in with him again.

**Author's Note:**

> So this has turned into a Bruce Springsteen/Patti Scialfa inspired series, and I'm okay with it.
> 
> Also, do you know how hard it is to try to be sympathetic to Scoot right now? Yikes.
> 
> Yell at me on twitter @suchplatonic.


End file.
